


Bitter Pill

by Ritsy



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-02
Updated: 2017-10-02
Packaged: 2019-01-08 02:09:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12245025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ritsy/pseuds/Ritsy
Summary: Levi writes a love(sick) letter to Eren Jaeger.





	Bitter Pill

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is just a oneshot. I kind of wanted to get my creative juices flowing and write a particularly angsty piece as well to help myself get better at that kind of shit. This is pretty much written as like a vomiting of thoughts, no real rhyme or reason, so hopefully it makes sense. It's first person POV, written from Levi's perspective (obviously). I don't have much else to say, so, enjoy I guess.

Hey, Bright Eyes. This letter is addressed to you, and I sit here at 3am in the fucking morning at my desk, writing this shit out, because I'm sick and fucking tired of lying in bed. You're well aware of the fact that I'm an insomniac by now, aren't you? Well, let me tell you a little secret: it's only gotten worse. I lie awake, night after night, in my big, cold bed, thinking of you. Of us. Of what we were. So instead of my shitty brain tormenting me until I blissfully pass the fuck out, I'm pouring my soul out here. Where the fuck do I even start? It doesn't really matter, does it? So I guess, let me just lay this all out for you, kid, on this crisp white page, all neatly jotted between blue lines. It contrasts with this jumbled fucking mess I'm feeling, and I'm hoping it'll all just cage it in, wrapped up pristinely in a white fucking envelope. Maybe then I won't have to feel it anymore.

Let's start with this, brat. You're the fucking sun, you shine so damn blindingly bright, and I couldn't look away. Hell, I didn't want to look away. You were my fucking universe. That fucking smile of yours that I loved, your eyes, your hair; fuck, everything about you made me weak. Me, Levi Ackerman, reduced to a lovesick sap; how utterly ridiculous. But fuck, if I didn't love you. If I don't still.

It's a bitter fucking pill to swallow, so I'll choke it down. Everything got so fucked up, Bright Eyes. We both know it. We were both at fault. Why did it have to go so wrong? My entire fucking life crumbled down at my feet, everything I had ever hoped to attain, all my future plans and dreams. Everything that was _ours._ I don't even know what the fuck to do anymore. See, you were the love of my life. I could never love anyone like I loved you. I'm fucking bitter over the fact that I _know_ I will never love anyone the way that I did you; it's fucking impossible. I'm _bitter_ because what we had, those feelings I had, can't ever be fucking rekindled, and you don't know how much that fucking kills me. I'm swallowing these bitter pills, one after another. All this shitty fucking knowledge tormenting me. I'll tell you a secret truth, Bright Eyes; I'm fucking _depressed,_ lower than low, and I can't even fucking see the surface anymore. I'm drowning in it, I'm suffocating.

It's a bitter fucking pill to swallow, how fucking pointless life is without you in it. _Fuck you,_ brat. Look what you've fucking done to me. Nothing matters; when distracted, I feel fleetingly happy, but leave me alone with my thoughts, and I am miserable. I'm not the same me, and that was our downfall. We stopped wanting the same things, we didn't see eye to eye, nothing went right. We fought, of course we did, and that's normal, isn't it? Of course it is. But what wasn't normal was me, and my anxieties. The constant fear of abandonment, the need to dig my claws in deep, and hang onto you with all I had. _I couldn't live without you._ That's all I could think, with every fight, and I was a coward. I'd beg to keep you, because fuck, you were my oxygen. I'm fucked up, Bright Eyes, I'm so fucked up. My own shitty neurotic brain was tearing me apart, worried constantly over losing you. The stress of it all, of my anxieties tearing me apart, the thoughts of being without you tormenting me, and all the fucking fights. It ate at me, and ate at me, and then the stress became to much. My own fucking body was trying to kill me.

I remember the first time I vomited blood; I was so fucking scared, Bright Eyes. I didn't know what the fuck was happening to me. Any time I thought I was okay, that it was a one time occurrence, I'd suddenly find myself bent over the fucking toilet puking my guts up, and through my teary fucking eyes, all I'd see is red, deep fucking _red_ , painting the toilet bowl. I lost my appetite, I stopped eating, I fell into the worst depression I have ever experienced, and I didn't even fucking know _why._ Why was I throwing up blood? Why couldn't I fucking eat? Why the fuck was I feeling so fucking low when all you ever made me was happy? Why the fuck couldn't I be happy, when the only thing I ever needed was mine? You don't know how it fucked with me, kid; I felt so guilty, because I loved you, so _why the fuck couldn't I be happy?_ What the fuck was wrong with me? It took so goddamn long for me to figure out why the fuck my body was methodically trying to off me; the realisation stung like a fucking knife ripping through me. It was all because of that fucking stress.

It's a bitter fucking pill to swallow, but I was miserable with you, and I'm miserable without you. I was depressed with you, and I'm the same without. What a fucking walking contradiction I am, right, Bright Eyes? I fucking mourn the loss of you, of what we had, every fucking night. I can't sleep, I toss and turn, reliving all our happiest fucking memories, and the miserable ones. I think of all the things I could have done differently, and I _regret._ It's driving me crazy, this bitter realisation that I just want to fucking want you, but I don't know how anymore. I fucking loved you; I still fucking love you.

I'm choking down handfuls of these shitty fucking pills, because fuck, if there's anything I'm certain about, it's that I can never love another person again, because they _aren't you_ , brat. Fuck you, goddamnit. You've ruined me for anyone else. And fuck me too, for ruining me for you, for smashing what we had into the ground because I just couldn't get past not wanting you anymore. I tried so damn hard, I forced myself to believe that I'd get over it, but I was just getting more miserable. I couldn't get over it. I was lying to myself.

The most bitter pill to swallow was the way I broke you. I can still vividly recall the way those fucking stunning eyes of yours glossed over with tears, tears of heartbreak that I fucking caused. I broke my own heart, too, Bright Eyes. Because I didn't want to fucking hurt you, I wanted to want you, so damn badly, it broke me too.

I don't want to feel anymore, Bright Eyes. I want to be numb; I'm already fucking jaded, so why the fuck do I have to feel? I want to feel that nothingness inside my chest; I want to be empty. I drown my sorrows by sucking in nicotine like it's oxygen, and throwing back drink after drink. I chase all these bitter little pills with the strong burn of whiskey, washing them down like I'm parched. My ashtray is full to overflowing, and yet I light another cigarette as I write. The nicotine is harsh on my tongue, but I relish in it. All in the hopes of fucking sedating myself. Isn't that pathetic?

I'm a pathetic fucking man, brat. I search out distractions like they're drugs, trying to keep my mind and heart off of the past; any-fucking-thing I can find to just stop me from thinking and feeling for as long as I can. As soon as I'm alone, they come creeping back, haunting me. Your voice dances in my head, your face smiling behind my shut eyelids, and god, that fucking beautiful laugh of yours.

I regret, I regret so much, but I don't regret you. You were the light in my pathetic little life, pulling me up out of the darkness. I've never once loved myself, but fuck if loving you didn't make me forget what it felt like to hate myself. You were _my_ brat, Bright Eyes, and I will never fucking regret that. I will never stop loving you, and I'll fucking cherish what we had, while we did. It feels like a huge mistake, most nights, that I let you go. I want to go back and fix it, goddamnit. I'm tired of crying my eyes dry. I'm tired in general.

I'm still fucking heartbroken over you, but there's not a damn thing I can do. I can't fix the past, Bright Eyes. I know you have just as many regrets as I do.

All these bitter fucking pills; the bottle is empty now, lying discarded on its side. All these metaphorical pills that I've replaced with real ones are filling up my stomach; I can feel it cramping uncomfortably as they start to break down. I almost want to vomit, but I keep it at bay. I've stopped using a glass, and I'm just chugging the whiskey from the bottle. It's my fourth one, and I can't even fucking see straight now, let alone think. And here I fucking am, just sitting here and writing you this shitty letter of all the things that I'll never fucking tell you. My cigarette is nothing but ash, and my tears are staining this page; it's getting harder to focus, I'm struggling to get my thoughts out. Before I light another cigarette, I rip the top off of a new pill bottle: they're antidepressants. I've poured out a handful, and thrown them back into my mouth. Each of these little fucking pills represent all of my fucking barbed thoughts that have whittled me down to a shell of who I used to be. I choke them down with the last of my whiskey. I've accidentally burned the page with my cigarette, and that gives me an idea. Fuck, my head is swimming now, and my lids are drooping down. I can't even force them to open.

Hey, Bright Eyes. This is my goodbye. I can't fucking stomach living in this world without you, and I still can't seem to want you even though I _fucking want to want you, more than I've ever wanted anything._ I can't live without you. I knew I couldn't from the start, and then I thought I could, but I've come full circle, and I've realised, that I really fucking can't. God, I love you. You've ruined me, Eren Jaeger, just as I've ruined myself. Cheers to you, love of my life. I take a long drag off of my last cigarette. The nicotine does nothing to replace the taste of you on my lips. I'm going to burn this letter, brat, and it'll never see the light of day. You won't ever have to be tormented with this shitty knowledge. I should have told you from the start, how truly fucked up I was. I'm shedding my last tears, I'm feeling the last of the aches in my very core, and my brain is thinking it's very last self-deprecating thoughts. I'm holding onto my memories of you, Eren. My Bright Eyes. I'm taking them with me to the afterlife, keeping that small piece of you with me forever.

Don't cry over me anymore, Bright Eyes. I'm just doing what my body failed to do with the stress all that time ago. I won't fail this time. Once I close my eyes, I won't open them again, so I need to hurry and finish this letter off. I don't know why I give a shit about finishing it so much when I'm just going to turn it to ash. You won't even get to read it. I don't want you to, brat. You don't need to feel guilty over this. It's not your fault, you shitty brat, it's mine. I just couldn't fucking live without you, goddamnit. I'm so weak, but I already accepted that with every bitter pill that I choked down.

My limbs feel like lead. I think I need to close my eyes for a little while; I don't think I can write anymore. I'm so tired, so heavy. Just for a little while. I'll dream of your bright fucking eyes, and taste you like the sweetest poison on my tongue. I love you, Eren. This is my permanent goodbye. It's so hard to focus on writing this. My last sentences that I'll ever pen. And this is the way I fucking go; I could almost laugh if I wasn't so fucking tired. Figures that I'd take the coward's way out, when you always thought better of me.

And here's the real fucking kicker of it all, the bitter fucking pill that I can't even swallow is the fact that  _I still and will always want you. I will never stop wanting or loving you._ But I pushed you so far from me that I can never have you again, and I can't fucking live without you. I lied to you in this letter you won't read: I really want you, I do, Bright Eyes.

 

From me to you, Bright Eyes; Eren Jaeger.

Pathetically, Eternally yours,

Levi Ackerman

**Author's Note:**

> And that's the end, folks. Let me know what you think in the comments. I'm eager to hear your thoughts. I apologize if there are any mistakes or if it's confusing or hard to follow. I just tried to convey as much raw emotion as possible. Thanks for reading.


End file.
